


Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

by writingonpostcards



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:26:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2418377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Hogwarts's school song came to be. </p><p>(It was a Tuesday and there was Firewhisky).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://whatthehellisawinchester.tumblr.com/post/99465430355/holligenet-daftwithoneshoe) tumblr post
> 
> Beta'd by my lovely sister, Blinded_By_The_Light

In a way, it was all because of Helga (although Godric would never admit to it).

It started one evening, early by most standards, but later than normal for a Tuesday which was usually reserved for, well... sleeping. But this particular Tuesday, preparation for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been surprisingly non-fuss and so still with energy to spare the school’s founders were assembled in what would come to be the Headmasters study. 

Rowena Ravenclaw was in a straight-backed chair by the fire, filling out a log of the day’s activities. She had taken it upon herself to document the building of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, less for the practical benefits of such a feat, and more to fulfil her inclination toward the documentation and transferal of knowledge along the generations. Also by the fire, though in a considerably comfier chair, was Helga Hufflepuff, who was humming idly while she read a novel. Salazar was sitting behind the large wooden Headmaster’s desk, sipping occasionally from a glass of mead and charming the objects on the desk to perform some kind of dance for his amusement. Godric Gryffindor was standing by one of the large bay windows, admiring the greenhouse that the founders had constructed earlier that day. It was he who broke the comfortable post-dinner silence.

“Say,” he turned around to face the room, not caring that no-one had turned their attention to him, “I wonder whether we should invest in some kind of entertainment for the night.”

“I am not interested in games Godric,” Rowena replied sharply whilst continuing to write. “Perhaps you should start thinking about the construction of the library for tomorrow.”

“No thank you Rowena, I’m giving myself a night off.”

“You just had the whole weekend off!” Helga spoke from her couch, looking up from her book.

“Dear Helga, you will do something with me wont you?” She smiled at him in a clear ‘yes’ but did not go so far as to close her book. She resumed her humming in lieu of answering Godric (and that is why it was because of Helga but why Godric believes it was entirely due to him – because humming is not something that demands a lot of attention).

Godric swept his eyes over the room looking for inspiration but he would not have found it had it not been for Helga and her humming.

“A song.” He spoke suddenly and loudly, causing Salazar’s dancing objects to leap and scatter over the desk. He glared at Godric who payed him no mind, caught up as he was in his idea. “A school song. Yes! This is wonderful. Let us write a school song.”

At this point both Helga and Rowena were looking at Godric; Helga with a delighted smile on her face, her love of music and art clearly evident. Rowena however was looking at Godric as though he had grown an extra two heads, and Salazar was busy reanimating the objects to dance across the desk again.

“You do not know a thing about music Godric,” Rowena raised an eyebrow at him.

“I will have Helga. Besides, we do not need to actually compose anything, let us just,” he waved his hands around slightly, “we can just write the lyrics. How hard could it be? We are all intelligent beings.”

Salazar Slytherin lent his voice to the proceedings for the first time that evening, “I do not understand why we need a school song.”

“Are you so opposed to singing that you will deny all future students a chance to revel in the glory of our school?” Helga spoke softly from her chair, craning her neck to look at Salazar to deliver her jest.

“Well it is currently only half a school Helga, I hardly think a school song is a high priority at this moment”, a pause and then as an aside, “if ever.”

“Oh hush Salazar. School spirit is one of the pinnacles of a good school. You do not want us to be shown up by the other European schools do you? I heard that they are constructing a school in France with rooms that mimic the outdoors so perfectly that centaurs have started living there.” Helga looks delighted at the very idea.

“Impossible,” Ravenclaw interjects. “Aside from the improbability of being able to maintain a classroom in a state of external environmental fluidity, centaurs would never consent to a confined space such as within a school.” Helga frowns.

“The centaurs in France are much closer to magic folk than here though Rowena.” Salazar argues, stilling the objects on his desk.

“True, but regardless of their affiliation with humans they are bound too strongly to the Earth to reside indoors. They would feel the confinement of walls even with the supposed perfect mimicry this classroom offers of the external environment.” Rowena's eyes are clearly dancing with the possibility that she could crate something just like that. 

Salazar opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by Godric laughing at them both. He waves his hands in a dismissive gesture, saying, “It is probably all made up anyway. And speaking of made up, let us make a school song for Hogwarts, yes?”

Rowena, although opposed initially to the activity, quickly ascends to the position of organiser, creating a list of criteria in her head for the project. She rises from her chair, deposits her notebook, ink and quills on the desk still occupied by Salazar and moves to stand by Godric and Helga.

“If we are going to do this, let us at least do it properly.”

“Don’t ruin our fun now Rowena.” Godric warns light-heartedly.

“Ah Godric, I think the three of us-“

“Four,” interjects Helga, always one for inclusiveness, finally closing her book and moving to stand by Godric and Rowena.

“Four,” Rowena consents with a nod towards Salazar who merely rolls his eyes. “I think the four of us creating a school song will be a source of amusement regardless of any structure I may lend it. And indeed I believe there should be a purpose of some sort for our song.”

Helga nods enthusiastically and glances at Godric cheekily before saying, “Otherwise I am sure all it would be about is how impressive a feat building Hogwarts was, and how strong and virile its founders must be.”

“Helga!” Godric exclaims, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You wound me deeply. It would of course also feature how clever and beautiful the female founders are.”

“Fun already, see?” Rowena remarks as Helga and Godric chuckle together, “and we have not even started.” The two smile widely at her and Godric gestures for her to continue.

“Alright then. We need values for our school, themes we can include in this song. Like education.”

“And friendliness,” comes the predictable reply from Helga.

“Yes, exactly.”

Godric nods in an absent way and Rowena accepts this as him agreeing with her.

“If that is settled then,” Rowena walks back to the desk where Salazar is now transfiguring the dancing objects into a selection of glasses and goblets. She tears a page from her notebook and charms it onto the wall opposite the fire place.

Rowena enlarges the parchment until it covers almost the entire surface before placing her wand in the centre of the parchment, whispering _oro appare_ , and causing a silver ripple of light to travel across the page from her wand tip.

“Hogwarts school song.” As Rowena speaks the words they appear on the parchment. Turning back to the others she says, “Just twirl your wand in small clockwise circles while you speak and the words will write themselves on the parchment.”

“Clever.” Helga congratulates, laying a hand on Rowena’s arm. “Who should start?”

“Wait a moment.” Godric rubs his hands together like he had when he sided with Salazar on the staircase debate (Godric wanted trick stairs which Helga had very decisively ruled against – _goodness me Godric, we cannot have the children falling through staircases_ ). “We need alcohol for this. Salazar is ahead of the game ladies. Look at these marvellous goblets he has transfigured.”

And indeed there now sat four goblets on the desk, one clearly designed for each founder according to colour and drink preference.

“Mead all round I think, seeing as it is already out. We can move to the heavy stuff later.”

Helga looks particularly aghast at the prospect and Rowena not much better, but Salazar has a wicked glint in his eyes.

After each founder empties their glass of mead Godric hurries them all to stand in front of the parchment again, Salazar included this time despite his protests (although having already drunk more than the others these protests were rather more feeble than usual).

“I suppose I will start, seeing as this whole thing was my idea.” Godric clears his throat and raises his wand hand in front of him with great ceremony. He holds still for several seconds before taking a deep breath and begins to move his wand in the described clockwise circles.

“Hogwarts Hogwarts.” He flashes the others a grin and lowers his wand as the words appear on the page in his handwriting.

“That is it?” Salazar asks with something close to disdain.

“You did ham that up rather a lot for just _Hogwarts Hogwarts_ ,” Helga agrees.

“Well you know me, I cannot resist a bit of drama.”

“I think it is a good start,” Rowena states. “We were going to have to include the name of the school somewhere and the beginning is as good a place as any.”

“Thank you Rowena. Would you like to go next?”

In lieu of answering Rowena faces the parchment with her wand raised and says, quite predictably really, “teach us something.”

Helga squirms nervously as the words appear on the page before hurriedly raising her wand.

“Please,” she adds to the end of Rowena’s sentence.

Both Rowena and Salazar roll their eyes at the amendment.

“Sorry,” Helga says, “you know my opinion on manners.”

“Nothing to be sorry for Helga,” Godric says. “Salazar, it seems you are the only one who has not contributed yet. Care to add something?”

“I contributed the mead just in case you have forgotten. I think I shall just pour us some more of than instead.”

\---

“Whether we be old or young” spoke Rowena, eager to get more meaningful words into the song, waving her wand at the scroll so the words appeared. “The teacher can often learn as much from the students as they can from their teacher.”

Salazar lets out a rather uncouth laugh, the mead having loosened his tongue, which he quickly tries to cover with a cough.

\---

Godric steps forward and raises his wand, “bring back what we’ve forgot”.

“Why that line Godric?”

“Goodness knows, Rowena, that these students are going to go back home over the summer holidays and forget everything they had learnt the year before. It seems right to include such an integral part of school life in the school song,” he finishes with a smirk.

“Well,” Helga intones slowly, “I suppose it will help them feel better in case they do forget things.”

“But we certainly do not want to encourage that behaviour Godric. I am beginning to fear you ever teaching here.”

\---

_Hogwarts Hogwarts_  
 _Teach us something please_  
 _Whether we be old or young_  
 _Our heads could do with filling_  
 _So teach us things worth knowing_  
 _Bring back what we’ve forgot_  
 _Just do your best we’ll do the rest_

“Well it is not bad I suppose,” Helga relents.

“But it does lack a certain... something.” Salazar points out.

“Let us keep writing then friends,” Godric exclaims loudly, finishing his third glass of mead, “perhaps we will stumble upon that ‘something’ that Salazar feels is missing.”

\---

“Wizards beard!” professes Rowena, “how can it be so impossible to rhyme with Hogwarts. Maybe we ought to change the name of the school”.

“Half a school!” Salazar shouts from behind the desk where he is pouring more mead, “Maybe five eighths,” he amends, cocking his head to the side.

“How about we simply rhyme it with Hogwarts?” Helga suggests, ignoring Salazar’s predictable outcry.

“We cannot rhyme Hogwarts with Hogwarts! That would be an identical rhyme and that is _cheating_.”

“No else thinks that but you Rowena,” teases Godric. 

“We could, of course, have a song that does not rhyme,” Salazar suggests.

“No!” the other three exclaim in unison.

\---

After mead number four, Helga is valiantly battling her hiccups to add to the song.

“Hog – hic – wart – hic,” grumbling, Helga stops, draws an overly large breath and tries again. “Hogwarts!”

The letters appear slowly on the page, Rowena’s charm struggling with Helga’s sentence. There is a moment of absolute silence before Rowena, Godric and Salazar burst into laughter masking Helgas’s timid _oh dear_. Her words had been transcribed ‘Hoggy Warty Hogwarts’.

“Salazar’s beard!”

“Refrain from including my beard in this Helga.” Salazar speaks clearly although returns to laughing as Godric acts out an exaggerated pantomime of Helga hiccuping.

“Rowena, how – hic – how do we get it down.” Helga asks, weaving her wand between her fingers.

Still laughing, Rowena has to take several deep breaths before she can wheeze out, “I do not think I want to,” and continues laughing at the words on the page.

“Come now Helga,” Godric speaks, gripping her shoulders and giving her a slight shake. “I think the song needed a bit of lightening up. Do you agree Rowena? Salazar?”

Rowena is still laughing, hands pressed against her stomach, looking back and forth between the scroll and Helga and laughing anew every time she sees how distraught Helga is.

“No no! Keep it.” Salazar ambled over to Helga and patted her head affectionately. “Godric is right.”

“Thank you my comrade.” Godric straightened, sobering momentarily and dropping his hands from Helga’s shoulders. “I shall remember this moment for always. Salazar Slytherin, on this Tuesday evening, did utter the sentence _Godric is right_ with no sarcasm or surprise in his tone.”

Salazar shoves ineffectually at Godric before continuing as if uninterrupted.

“Heaven knows this song needs a bit of humour in it. Actually,” and Salazar gets a look in his eyes that the other founders recognise from that time when he tried to convince them that the staircases should be transient. (He claims it was to teach students problem solving but Rowena and Helga had quietly agreed he was probably just looking forward to hopelessly confusing all the students.) 

Salazar surveys the words on the parchment and then quite suddenly lifts his wand and amends, “whether we be old _and bald_ or young _with scabby knees_ ”.

Rowena looks wonderfully affronted that he would interfere with her line and her laughter stops abruptly to be replaced by Godric’s belly laugh. 

“Well done! I like this new direction.” Godric walks over to Salazar and claps him on the shoulder. “My turn now.”

Rowena is still in shock over her edited line and Helga – thankful to the men for distracting from her embarrassing mishap – is too busy trying to get Rowena to drink some water to bother trying to prevent whatever childish amendments Godric is about to make.

\---

Rowena sighs but walks determinedly to the scroll, wand raised before choosing the least offensive addition she can. 

“There. Now we have all had another go.” She starts to walk off but Salazar steps in front of her and speaks over her head to Godric.

“Say Godric.” 

“Why yes Salazar?”

“How about that game now?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“Then pour the Firewhisky my friend.”

Rowena sighs. Their brother act always seems to come out at the strangest and most inconvenient of moments. 

“So what is this game?” Rowena tries to sound disinterested but after her third glass of mead she is feeling pleasantly amiable to the cheer in the room.

“Simple,” Godric says, flicking his wand at the bottle of Firewhisky on the desk so it pours small amounts into four glasses. Another flick and they float, a little unsteadily, to rest suspended in front of each of the founders. “We drink this wonderful alcohol before us,” Godric grasps the Firewhisky in front of him eagerly, as does Helga, “then we choose a line at random from the song and... amend it.”

“And what are the rules?” Helga asks.

“Not sure yet.” Godric shrugs. “I am just making this up on the spot.”

“Funniest amendment gets to choose the next line to amend?” Salazar suggests.

“That seems a little tame.” Rowena remarks.

“Least humorous amendment has to drink another round.”

“Helga!” Rowena raises her eyebrows, surprised by the boldness of Helga’s suggestion.

“Ha! I knew you had mischievous urges buried somewhere in there.” Godric says joyfully. “I am on board with Helga’s rules. What about you two?” 

“I cannot say no to such a suggestion from Helga.” Salazar smirks at Helga who blushes.

“Alright,” Rowena sighs, “I think it is a good rule.”

“Wonderful.” Godric pivots to face the parchment. “Helga, you can choose the first line as a reward for inventing such a wonderful rule for my game.”

Salazar scoffs at Godric’s claiming of the game but says nothing.

“Are we drinking this Firewhisky before we start?” 

“I did not think you were keen on Firewhisky Rowena.”

“I am not Salazar, but Godric said we were to drink before we started the game.”

“Right I did.” Godric turned back around and raised his glass, beaming eagerly at them all. “To a wonderful night that is about to get better.” He brings the glass to his lips and quickly swallows the amber liquid, shaking his head slightly and letting out a small puff of steam on his exhale. Helga and Salazar do the same, Salazar somehow managing to form his steam into the shape of a snake. Rowena reluctantly raises her glass to her lips, inhales deeply and quickly swallows the drink, barely managing to contain a splutter as the liquid coats her throat. Salazar shakes his head at her kindly and turns to face the scroll as Godric and Helga already are.

Helga surveys the scroll which currently reads; 

  
_Hogwarts Hogwarts_   
_Hoggy Warty Hogwarts_   
_Teach us something please_   
_Whether we be old and bald_   
_Or young with scabby knees_   
_Our heads could do with filling_   
_With interesting stuff_   
_So teach us things worth knowing_   
_Bring back what we’ve forgot_   
_Just do your best we’ll do the rest_   


Helga points her wand at the seventh line down and says determinedly, “for now they’re bare”.

“And full of air!” Godric adds gleefully.

“Dead flies,” is the rather crass addition from Salazar.

“And... bits of fluff,” Rowena finally settles on.

“I think Godric should drink.” Salazar smirks, winking at Rowena and Helga behind Godric’s back.

“Me too,” both women quickly say.

“Ah! Blasphemy! Slander! Lies and deceit!”

“Godric that makes no sense!” Helga says through giggles.

“Bah! I know you three have teamed up against me, but being the noble Gryffindor that I am I will accept my punishment of more alcohol.”

\---

“And learn until our brains-“

“Rot.”

“Salazar! You- you,” Rowena spluttered in indignation, “you commandeered my sentence!”

Godric of course is no help, laughing at the line. “I think it is perfect Rowena. Exactly how my brain feels after just one day constructing this school.” Rowena glares at him. “Imagine the students after a whole year!”

\---

After many hours, many drinks and much laughter on the part of all four founders, the scroll Rowena affixed to the wall early in the evening is left reading as follows;

  
_Hogwarts Hogwarts_   
_Hoggy Warty Hogwarts_   
_Teach us something please_   
_Whether we be old and bald_   
_Or young with scabby knees_   
_Our heads could do with filling_   
_With interesting stuff_   
_For now they’re bare and full of air_   
_Dead flies and bits of fluff_   
_So teach us things worth knowing_   
_Bring back what we’ve forgot_   
_Just do your best we’ll do the rest_   
_And learn until our brains rot_   


Into the silence that has descended upon the room following the completion of the song, Helga speaks. “Oh dear, it is not quite what you had hoped for is it Rowena?” Helga looks worried on Rowena’s behalf.

“Not at all.” Rowena frowns at the parchment with the completed school song. “But you know something? I think I like this better.”

Rowena offers Helga a smile and Helga returns it easily, embracing her and laughing softly into her hair.

“Wonderful! It truly is.” Godric stands behind them as they pull apart and places an arm around both their shoulders. “Well done to us.”

The three turn to stare at Salazar expectantly. He huffs only very slightly before walking over to them and standing opposite Godric, wrapping his arms around Helga and Rowena and begrudging smiling with them. Though his smile was small, his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“So Helga, are you going to compose a melody for it?” Salazar inquired.

“Oh, just let them sing it however they like and be done with it.” Helga was tired and tipsy and writing the words had been an ordeal enough, albeit an enjoyable one.

That night the four founders retired to their chambers feeling content, and if they spent the next day in the Headmasters office again, laughing at their attempt at creativity, sharing stories and jokes and playing games, well, one day longer to build the school was not going to hurt anyone.


End file.
